Theme + Number: 2) Fear, 20) Blue, 32) Coffee, 60) Depression & 65) Irrational (fated_children)
Claim: Irvine Kinneas/Selphie Tilmitt
Rating: K+ (for mild alcohol drinking)
Warnings: Slightly depressing.
Author's Notes: Inspired by the song (by the same name) by Hinder.
Summary: Sometimes, you just want to ignore the truth.
She remembers a time when he took sugar and cream in his coffee and she didn’t taste the bitter sting of vodka when she would sneak a sip. Month had passed- both of them too upset and stubborn to actually try to mend what had gone on between the two of them.
He sips his coffee and stares at her with empty eyes, trying so hard to disguise the anger and the resentment, and hell, the self-loathing, the depression, the pain. But that mask he uses it a weak one and she sees right through it and straight to the fear: the fear he has of her seeing through him. Imagine how surprised he would be to find out she already did see through him.
Just like that, one word, and the petite girl’s mouth slammed shut. She twisted her mouth up, gnawing on her bottom lip, tapping her nails- painted such a violent shade of blue that it made his head swim- against the table in a maddening rhythm. Tap, tap, pause. Tap, tap, pause.
He knew it was irrational to stop her every time she went to speak. He knew what she was trying to say, knew what it would change. He didn’t really care though, hearing the words would have been so much worse, hurt so much more.
She reached out, running her thin, pale fingers across the back of the gunman’s man, smiling at him in an almost pitying way. For an instant he wanted to hurt her for looking at him that way, then he wanted to hold her and never let her go.
“I love you, you know,” she whispered.
He nodded, sipped his drink again. “I know.”
“But, we need to take a break for a while.”
She sighed, brushing her fingers over the back of his hand again. “It’s been so long since I’ve smiled. What happened to you, hmm?” She brushed her thumb over his wrist, watching him for any sign of emotion. “What happened to that man I fell in love with?”
He just shrugged, an exaggerated action meant to make her drop the subject, and drop it she did, sighing and standing, then leaning down and kissing him, tasting the bitterness of both coffee and vodka on his lips. “Goodbye, Irvine.”
He watched the door long after she left, not daring to say goodbye to her as well.
He didn’t want to know it was over.